


and all that jazz

by dragmeddown



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bisexual Niall, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, High School, M/M, Narry - Freeform, Pining Niall, SORT OF i think, Theatre, theatre kids au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 02:46:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7667299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragmeddown/pseuds/dragmeddown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theatre kids AU where Niall is the stage manager and Harry is one of the leads. Niall's pining, Harry's busy being a bit of a diva actor, but it all ends well. Bit of side Louis/Eleanor as well, Louis and Niall are best friends. Basically I'm really into theatre and so what better way to use this than in a Narry fic...I used a couple of different "theatre kid AU" prompts from Tumblr, I'll link the post below. I'm kinda proud of this one and I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.</p><p>Prompts here: http://scientificcynic.tumblr.com/post/140511007372</p>
            </blockquote>





	and all that jazz

“So, you’re up for it?”

“I - yeah, yes, of course, I’m in,” Niall spluttered. 

“Good. Here’s the rehearsal schedule, I’ve circled for you the ones that I want you at, alright? Don’t worry about the ones coming up, they’re just for blocking and choreography. I want you to start working out the props. Here’s a script - you know what to do.”

“Thank you, Ms.Williams, I’ll get right to it,” Niall bubbled as he balanced the script folder and rehearsal schedule on top of his maths book and biology folder already in his arms. “Thank you so much, I won’t let you down, I promise.”

“I know you won’t, Niall. Off you go,” Ms.Williams said with a smile, turning back to her marking book. Niall turned on his heel and exited the drama office, pulling the door almost closed but leaving it open by a slit. 

When he had initially applied to stage manage their school’s winter production of “Chicago”, back before the summer holidays, he had done so with the predisposition that he wouldn’t get the job. Aim low and avoid disappointment, and all that. Never in a million years did he think that he’d actually get it. Yes, he’d been taking drama up until this year, but had dropped it for his A-levels, and yes, he had been pretty decent at the tech-side of it when he had done it last year, but still he couldn’t believe that Ms.Williams trusted him enough to let him take on this; “the” winter production. A serious production, with a cast of about 25 and four shows in early December. And a full orchestra, for crying out loud. He smiled to himself, feeling very proud, as he walked home through the light rain, hugging the script and schedule close to his chest to protect them from the drizzle.

When he got home, he raced up to his room to mark all the rehearsals into his calendar. It would take some juggling of homework and the theatre to get it all done, he realised, but he reckoned that he could definitely make some time by cutting down on FIFA sessions with Louis - as much as it would pain him to do so. He would have to break it to him tomorrow.

As he worked through the schedule, copying out circled dates into his calendar, he glanced down at the names of who should be attending each rehearsal - they were still the names of the characters. The cast list wasn’t up yet - auditions had been held before the summer holidays, but it was only the first week back in September and clearly, a decision hadn’t been reached yet. He knew of a couple of girls who had auditioned for the lead parts of Roxie and Velma and who he thought pretty much had them in the bag, and of many more who had auditioned for the same parts but would probably get a role in the chorus. He didn’t know of any boys who had auditioned, though, which worried him slightly as he had done his bit of prior research and knew that there was a fair number of male roles involved. _Cross that bridge once we get to it _, he thought as he opened the script and began the first readthrough.__

*

“Look, Louis, I’m sorry, but I do have to actually do work and this theatre thing is gonna consume my free time like a mini cupcake, alright? I’m sorry,” Niall apologised yet again to Louis, who was a little upset after hearing what he had dubbed, in true drama queen fashion, “the worst news of the century”.

“But Niall, our FIFA seshes are what keep me MOTIVATED during the week!” he had initially protested when Niall had broken it to him. Now, he had simmered down into a more placid state of shock and confusement. They were sat outside on a bench by the football pitch, having lunch.

“No, no, I understand,” he lamented dramatically, looking into the distance as he took a bite of his sandwich, “work must come first. No time for silly, frivolous activities like getting destroyed at FIFA. No _sir._ ”

“So dramatic, Louis, you should’ve auditioned too…” he scoffed. “Come on, you know that I love our FIFA nights, I really do, and I promise that we’ll make up for them during the winter holidays, okay? FIFA night every night,” Niall bargained. “Here, I’ll give you half of my iced tea right now, as a consolation,” he suggested, taking a final swig before ceremoniously passing the bottle to Louis, balancing it in the palm of his hand. “A gesture showing my deepest sorrow and regret,” he said, trying his best to keep a straight face.

Louis didn’t say anything, chugged the remaining content of the bottle in one go, and passed the empty bottle back to Niall, a triumphant grin now settling onto his face.

“That doesn’t completely sweeten my tea -” he paused for a laugh but was met by the defeated stare from Niall that so often followed bad puns, “but it’s a start.”

“I’m glad, Louis,” Niall sighed, leaning back. “Have you heard anything about the casting?”

“I haven’t actually, no, nothing official,” Louis replied, “but I did hear Ellie whispering about it today in French. Word on the street says,” he leaned in closer, very theatrically, “that the list is going up today at four o’clock, on that notice board by the drama office?”

“Really? She auditioned, didn’t she? Eleanor, I mean,” Niall asked. “Reckon she’ll get it?”

“I hope so,” Louis laughed, “judging from how excited she was talking about it, I think it’ll just about destroy her if she doesn’t. I mean, why wouldn’t she get it? Voice of an angel…” he mused.

“Louis?” Niall jabbed him in the side. “When are you gonna ask her out? Please, dear God, just do it, because I’m getting sick of seeing mister heart-eyes-emoji over here pining after her incessantly.”

“Oi!” Louis scoffed indignantly, “I’m not pining. I’m just…” he hesitated, “interested. No, that sounds creepy. I’m...open. To the possibility. Of us getting off sometime.”

“I think you should grab the possibility, Louis,” Niall laughed, “and do it quick. Just go for it, honestly, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“Oh yeah, Niall you’re one to give relationship advice. When’s the last time you went with a girl, eh? Or a boy, for that matter,” Louis fired back playfully.

Niall could feel his ears going red. Louis was right, as annoyed as he was admitting it. He hadn’t even had a fling with anyone recently. That’s not to say that he didn’t have his eye on someone - there was a very cute boy in their year, Harry, who Niall had been crushing on just a little bit since summer term last year. He hadn’t seen him around much since school had started, except once in the corridor, when their paths had crossed for reasons that Niall couldn’t understand - Harry didn’t even take maths, as far as he knew, so he couldn’t understand what he was doing in the maths corridor. That hadn’t mattered at the time, though, because Harry had looked good, needless to say. His hair had grown out over the summer, now reaching just to his shoulders, those gloriously loose, brown curls falling complementing his light blue button-up. And his legs - long and lean, in the tightest black jeans Niall had ever seen; he walked with a certain ease and confidence, so much so that it looked almost graceful as he strode down the corridor, passing Niall. They had made eye contact for a split-second, and had half-smiled at each other, as you do when you pass one another in the hallway and want to be friendly without making it weird. 

“It hasn’t been that long…” he muttered sorely, “remember Jess…”

“Jess was in year ten, Niall. That was three years ago,” Louis kindly reminded him. “Look, if you want me to wingman you, all you have to do is ask. I’m happy to set you up with somebody,” Louis offered. Niall smiled - he could be a bit of an ass sometimes, but Louis almost always came through in the end.

“Thanks, Louis,” he said sarcastically, “but how did we get so off-track? You and Ellie, that’s the main focus,” he continued as Louis groaned and threw a hand over his forehead, like a damsel in distress. “See,” Niall laughed, “you should have auditioned. Dramatic flair, right there…plus, you could have gotten to know Ellie, if she does indeed get the part.”

“Yes, yes, alright, opportunity missed,” Louis said, “let’s focus on what _can_ be done. Actually,” he said after a moment of silence during which both tried to think of any even semi-realistic situations in which Louis might get into contact with Ellie, “the play thing isn’t actually that bad of an idea. I heard on the grapevine that they’re low on male parts. I can’t sing properly, but does that matter? Can’t dance either, come to think of it, but I’m sure that can be fixed with a bit of practice…what do you think?” he asked eagerly, turning to face Niall.

“I...yeah, I mean, why not? Come check the cast list with me today after school, and if there’s any blank bits we can ask Ms.Williams whether she’d be willing to take you on?” Niall offered. “You can totally sing,” he added, “remember the music recital last year? Ooooh, it’s what you do to meeeee…” he began to sing quietly as Louis swatted at him.

“Alright, alright, I remember. This sounds like a plan to me. Meet me at my locker after last period?”

*

Niall had to scan the list twice before he could believe it.

“See, Niall, there’s blanks for those three male chorus members! Told ya…” Louis said excitedly as he prodded his finger at the list for emphasis. Niall was still frozen on the stop. Because right there, at the top of the list, underneath the roles of Velma and Roxie (Ellie had gotten the latter), was the role of Billy Flynn. Which had the name “Harry Styles” set out next to it in neat print.

“Niall? You alright?” Louis asked tentatively. “I won’t do it if you think it’ll be weird, working with me. Bossing me around, I won’t do it if you’re not comfortable with it, you got your job first,” he backpedaled quickly.

“No! No, Louis, it’s not that, it’s nothing. C’mon,” he said as he grabbed Louis by the arm and pulled him over to the drama office door, knocking loudly. 

He heard a faint “come in” from inside, and pushed open the door, starting his sentence before Ms.Williams even had time to register who he was.

“Hi, Ms.Williams, sorry to bother you, you must be busy, but I’ve, erm,” he paused, turning to Louis and pushing him forward, “you do the talking, Louis.”

“Right,” Louis said suddenly, as if shocked out of a deep sleep, “I, well, I couldn’t help but notice the empty slots for the male chorus members, up on the board? And I, erm, I was wondering whether you’d take me on? Would I have to audition? I’m no dancer, I’ll say that...”

Ms.Williams looked slightly dazed. “Yes, yes of course,” she started, “we need those chorus members too, so yes, I think we can take you on. There’s no time for auditions anymore so you can just come to rehearsals, and if you’re awful we’ll kick you out,” she said. Louis face fell, and she was quick to catch him. “Kidding! We’ve managed before, and I’m sure that even if you’re not the strongest singer or dancer we can train you right up. Welcome aboard,” she laughed as Louis’ expression became gleeful. “Oh, and here’s the rehearsal timetable. Everything marked “chorus” means you. Rehearsals start next week. Let me know of anybody else who might be even mildly suitable, we can’t be low on boys.”

“Thanks! Thank you so much,” Louis bubbled, “I’ll ask around. We’d better be going now, eh Niall? Thank you!” he said one more time as he hooked his arm around Niall’s and pulled him out of the office.

“Bye, Ms.Williams,” Niall managed before Louis shut the door behind them. 

“YES!” Louis celebrated slightly louder than necessary. A couple of younger students on the far end of the corridor looked somewhat alarmed. 

“See, told ya!” Niall said gleefully as they walked out of the drama department. Louis’ eyes were glazed over as he scanned the timetable, spotting numerous rehearsals all marked “chorus”. 

“Yeah, I’m glad, even though this looks like a huge commitment. You were definitely right about the cancelled FIFA sessions, I might have to have a chat with my coach as well, looks like I’ll have to miss some training sessions, especially around those last few weeks.” He smiled up at Niall. “Promise not to boss me around too much? I’ll be nice, but you can’t be too harsh with me, it’s my first time on the job. Pinkie promise?” he said, holding out his little finger. Niall hooked his around Louis’, although he suspected that he would have to do some significant shushing in the wings. Louis was very much the excitable type, and the adrenaline that comes with performing would probably get to him. He shook on it.

*

Niall was sat cross-legged on his bed, poring over the script. He had circled any stage directions or lines involving props with a red pen, and was now going through one more time, just in case he’d missed something. As he worked, he couldn’t help but fantasise about how amazing this production was going to be. He had reviewed some of the set design notes and sketches with Ms.Williams yesterday, and was set to go into school on a weekend later in October to help paint the stage and some of the larger pieces of set. He had glanced briefly at a list of set designers, but could only remember one name - Zayn Malik - mostly because it had really stood out from the flood of typical English names. He remembered the name, and was fairly sure that they had been in the same English class, way back down in school. He didn’t really see him around school much, and he couldn’t say that they were friends - being in the same English class absolutely did not count, although they had once shared notes on Romeo and Juliet. 

The more familiar he got with the script, the more he could imagine Harry playing Billy Flynn. He definitely had the overflowing confidence, flair and charm for the part, and Niall had no doubt that the boy could sing and dance like nobody’s business. How else would he have gotten the part? The excitement was consuming him - not just because Harry was involved - but because this was his first real big break. He had worked on junior school productions before, but this was the real deal, as far as school productions went. He couldn’t wait until the actual rehearsal period began, because everything that came with it was so blissful. The long nights and the weekend rehearsals, powered by copious amounts of various shared snacks, and the adrenaline of doing a show together. He longed to become a part of that tight-knit family-like unit that so often surfaces out of doing productions together and having to spend so much time with each other. And it would all be even better because Harry would be there. And Louis, of course. But Harry especially. 

He drew up a definitive list of props. _Notebooks (for reporters), rolls of money, feather boas (x12), chairs (x5), pistol, Bible_. The list filled a page and a half, and he had drawn a small box next to each item to be ticked when it had been found. He set off researching: _how to make realistic fake money. Dollar bill 1920s. Pistols in the 1920s_. He had work to do.

*

“Louis! Make sure you’re raising your arms like the others. Look around. Where are everybody’s arms? Out towards the audience, not at the sides, you’ll give someone a black eye. Let’s try that one more time,” Ms.Williams instructed, and was met by a unanimous “Yes, Jane.” She had instructed them to call her by her first name in rehearsals, simply because it was more convenient and easy to yell out than the full “Ms.Williams”. 

Niall smiled as the actors shuffled back to their starting positions to go through the motions again. The musical director, Ms.Abel (who had followed Ms.Williams’ lead and asked the cast to call her Kirsty, to make things easier) was off this rehearsal because of a meeting; Ms.Williams was having to roughly sing the melody of the song as the actors moved, so that when Ms.Abel did return, they wouldn’t be horrendously off-beat. Niall was tucked away in the wings, working on some of the props that he had amassed over the last couple of weeks; now, he was typing up a legitimate-looking legal document on his laptop. The working lights were on, which allowed him to work on his laptop in the wings without blinding himself with the light of the screen. He liked it better this way - he felt too judgemental and important sitting in the audience seats with Ms.Williams, but he didn’t want to be a hermit backstage in the green room, either. The wings were the perfect middle ground, and so he had stationed himself in the stage left wing along with a bag of Maltesers. The stage left wing was his favorite - it was here that he usually was during shows anyway, and he knew it like the back of his hand. To be honest, he knew the entire school theatre like the back of his hand. 

This happened to be a rehearsal at which Harry wasn’t present, which meant that he could be slightly more at ease, crunching through the bag of Maltesers and typing away, trying to find out what a legal document actually looked like in the 1920s. He didn’t have to worry about sounding like a dinosaur munching on an entire tree. The cast seemed to have a certain respect for him - mostly because they weren’t entirely sure what the title of stage manager, which is what Ms.Williams had introduced him as at the first rehearsal, entailed, and there was a definite fear of the unknown. All they knew was that he was allowed to shush them, and that he was in charge the second they got off the stage and entered the wings. 

“Good work everyone, take a quick break and then we’ll pick it up again,” Ms.Williams called as the cast relaxed their positions and filed off the stage in little groups. Louis headed straight for Niall, and reached into the bag to grab a handful of Maltesers before sitting down on the floor next to him. 

“How you doing?” he asked as Niall typed away feverishly. He had finally found the right font, and was testing it out.

“Good,” he muttered, words muffled by concentration. 

“What’re you up to?” Louis asked, leaning in to see the screen clearly. “Looks good.”

“Thanks, it’s the legal document. For Billy Flynn, y’know, for the trial scene later on,” Niall smiled. “You think it looks alright?”

“I’d think it was real, if I didn’t know any better,” Louis said earnestly. “You could leave some spaces at the bottom, and then put some signature-looking squiggles down there?” he suggested.

“That’s...actually a really good idea, hadn’t thought of that,” Niall said as he typed away, editing out the last chunk of text at the bottom. “Like that? Looks pretty authentic.”

“Yeah,” Louis said, eyes now falling on the cluster of girls on the opposite side, in the stage right wing. “Niall,” he asked cheekily, “you see her? The girl with the green hoodie, Margot, she’s cute isn’t she? Want me to wingman you?” he laughed, nudging Niall playfully.

“Bugger off, Louis, I don’t even know her,” Niall rebutted, “plus, I’ve - “ he hesitated; Harry was going to be at rehearsals eventually, and Louis would absolutely make it hell for him if he knew about the crush. “I’m fine, Louis, I don’t need a girl. Haven’t got time, not with all of this,” he said nonchalantly, motioning to the script and arrays of notes and papers surrounding it. 

“I get it, I get it, you’re a busy man,” Louis said, leaning back against the wall. “When’s Ellie gonna be here? Have you got a schedule on you?” he asked after a moment of silence punctuated by Niall’s clicking and typing.

Niall obligingly passed his copy to Louis, who flicked through it at light speed. 

“Here! Here,” he said excitedly, pointing at a rehearsal which was to take place on the first of October - next week. “Here, it says ‘Roxie’, and ‘all male chorus’. Oh God, that means I’ll have to dance in front of her,” he realised soberingly as Niall cackled.

“Mate, don’t sweat it, you’ll be fine. Just make sure you don’t make a complete prat out of yourself, difficult as that might be,” he laughed as Louis whacked him on the arm and proceeded to grab the entire bag of Maltesers and hoard it out of Niall’s reach. 

“Lousy friend you are,” he grumbled as he shoved a handful into his mouth.

“Are we ready to come back, everyone? Onstage, in the positions where you left off, places,” came Ms.Williams’ command.

“That’s me,” Louis said, rising to his feet. Niall reached out to slap his bum as he went, barely reaching.

“Go get ‘em, Louis,” he quipped. He watched Louis take his place onstage before going back to his work. The legal document would look amazing once printed and scrawled on, he reckoned; now he needed to figure out how to mass-produce something like twenty-five notebooks for a scene with newspaper reporters. 

*

“Hi, mum,” Niall called as he shut the front door behind him, locking it. Rehearsals had overrun, and it was just past eight o’clock now. And he was starving.

“Hello sweet, there’s some leftover lasagna in the oven, should still be warm,” she called back from the sitting room. Niall dropped his bag in the hallway, kicked off his shoes and hung up his jacket before bursting into the kitchen and making a beeline for the oven. Surely enough, the lasagna was still warm, and he dished out an enormous helping for himself. He hadn’t planned for an evening this late, snack-wise, and he had been running off the fumes of the banana that he had eaten just before rehearsals began. 

“You alright, Ni?” his mum asked as she came into the kitchen, mug of tea in hand. “Long night, huh?” she said sympathetically, taking a seat opposite him at the table. 

“Yeah, m’starving,” he managed in between mouthfuls. “Wasn’t supposed t’run this late.”

“Thanks for texting, anyhow,” she said, taking a sip of tea, “so I knew not to worry. Nights are getting darker, have you got reflective bits on your coat? On your bag?”

“Hmmmph,” came the response from Niall, meaning both “yes, mum” and “you’ve asked me this every night now for about a week, rest assured that I also want to stay safe and not get run over.”

“Are things going well with the show?” she asked.

Niall took his time to swallow his mouthful before replying. “Yeah, mostly. I mean, people still don’t know all of the lines and lyrics, which is annoying for Ms.Williams, but other than that, it’s going well. By the way, I’m off, weekend after next, painting,” he said, scooping up another forkful. “The set, I mean, so I’ll be gone pretty much all day on Saturday and Sunday. Well, not the whole day, something like ten to four,” he finished. 

“Okay, we’ll have to remember to fix you some proper snacks then, wouldn’t want you going hungry. No good work ever gets done on an empty stomach,” his mum replied, reaching across the table and patting his cheek. “So hardworking, Ni, I’m so proud of you,” she said fondly, before getting up and leaving the kitchen. “I’ve got to have a wash. Put the rest of it in the fridge, will you?” she called from down the hallway.

“Yeah, mum, I will, thanks for making dinner,” Niall replied, scraping the last bits of lasagna off his plate.

*

“Ready? Five, six, seven, eight,” sang Ms.Abel. It was October 1st, the day of Louis’ first of many rehearsals with Ellie present. He had been incredibly nervous that whole day (“Look, Niall, tell me, Be honest. Does my hair look messy, or _messy_. You know what I mean! The second one? Or the first? If it’s the first, I might as well just shave it all off.”). But now there he was, onstage, going through the choreography of the big number featuring Roxie spilling her dreams and a group of six boys that Ms.Williams had been able to round up lifting her and dancing. Louis was doing well so far - no slip-ups. His concentration seemed to be at an all-time high, which wasn’t a bad thing, and he had spent the entire break they had just had talking to Ellie.

Niall looked on proudly from the stage left wing, where he was sat working on the dollar bills. He had trialled a number of methods, but in the end had decided on the most complex and long-winded way possible. This involved hand-painting sheets of paper with green watercolours, then printing dollar bills onto the sheets once they had completely dried. The watercolour made them crinkle nicely, which Niall liked, and make them seem more authentic than if he was to just print out a bunch of uniformly coloured bills. 

So far, he hadn’t been at a single rehearsal with Harry involved. This was mostly due to the fact that Harry had so much singing, acting and dancing to do that Ms.Williams had decided to keep him doing his own private sessions until he was comfortable enough with all of the material that he could come and work on scenes with the others. 

And this was about to change, apparently. He had heard Ms.Abel and Ms.Williams discussing when he had come in early, and Harry was taking to the stage with the others soon. Possibly at the next rehearsal, on Monday night.

Niall found himself planning meticulously; what was he going to wear? What was he going to be doing? Hopefully nothing that involved painting, his sweatpants dedicated to the job were both ugly and a little too small for him. Would he sit in the audience? No, that’d be creepy, he’d sit in the wings as usual. But would Harry think he was weird, sitting there in the dark, alone?

Niall’s head buzzed with the planning, and he only snapped out of it when he came to and realised that he had been painting the same sheet of paper for so long that the water had soaked it completely and he had torn it with his rough paintbrush. 

Suddenly there was a sound of relaxed steps, and before long Louis had made his way on over to the wing where Niall was sat.

“Niall, mate, what’s gone on here?” Louis asked, towering over Niall as he tried to pry up the soaked paper from the floor. This only caused it to tear further and cling to his hands.

“I was just trying to make some bills, got distracted…” he muttered, shaking his hands in an effort to cast off the wet paper.

Louis gave a low whistle as he slid his back down the wall and sat next to Niall, making sure that his feet avoided the greenish puddle and heap of paper. “So I talked to Ellie,” he began, his voice suddenly light and excited.

“I saw,” Niall said quietly. “Did you manage an intelligent conversation?”

“How rude!” Louis laughed, pretending to be wounded. “I’ll have you know we had a delightful encounter. We talked about the song, and how she’s terrified that we’ll drop her, and….” Niall zoned out a little as Louis talked. 

“...and I asked her if she wants to ride the bus with me back home, turns out we go the same way but she usually doesn’t take the bus but tonight she has to because her parents are in Portugal on their honeymoon. Niall?” Louis paused and nudged him with his elbow. “Are you still with me? I’m riding the bus with her!”

“Pipe down, Louis, she’s right over there,” Niall said, again quietly in contrast to Louis’ excited waffling. “Yes, I heard. that’s great, honestly it is. Well done. Way to be super-subtle about it. But that does mean you’ll have to be interesting for another twenty-odd minutes, you know.”

“Bugger, hadn’t thought of that,” Louis mumbled as Niall laughed softly, concentrating on his painting. “I’ll manage. I hope. We don’t actually share any classes. Niall! Niall, please help. Help me think of five questions that I can ask, or possible topics of conversation. Anything at all, whatever you can think of. Niall!” Louis nudged him again, exasperated. “This is my hour of need!”

*

Niall stood in front of the mirror in the boys’ bathroom. He stared at his reflection. His hair was a little ruffled, which was good. He had a spot on his chin, which was less good, but overall he didn’t think he looked too bad. He knew it was ridiculous to be this pedantic about his appearance, just because this was the first rehearsal where Harry would be present. Niall was so nervous that he couldn’t stop patting his hair.

He realised eventually that his hair couldn’t be changed any more, and that the spot on his chin was there to stay, and so he exited the bathroom, ready to brave Harry in all his acting and singing and dancing glory.

And Harry killed it, of course he did. Clearly, his private rehearsals had paid off, because that boy could sing, dance and act like nobody’s business. Niall had made his home on the gantry above the stage, and watched the rehearsal from up there, whilst cutting out the dollar bills that had _finally_ dried after the latest painting job. 

Niall couldn’t do anything but watch Harry in awe as he moved across the stage, clearly not giving it his all in terms of singing but also not slacking off. He bounced so effortlessly, his long legs propelling him all over the stage, so that he seemed to cover the whole area in the space of five seconds. And his voice; oh dear God, his voice. It was smooth and soft at times, sometimes a little raspy, in all the right places. 

He chatted with the others in the breaks, working the room and dropping in and out of conversation like it was second nature to him. Niall couldn’t help but wish that he was down there too, but he contented himself with being up on the gantry. It allowed him not to miss any major action, but also guaranteed that he wouldn’t embarrass himself in front of anybody. Namely Harry. He continues cutting out the bills.

Rehearsal resumed, and the group was busy trying to follow Kirsty’s dance instructions. Niall couldn’t help but be a little jealous when she asked Harry to put his arms around the waists of the two girls on his either side. 

He finished cutting out the last bills, and placed them on the ever-growing pile. To his horror, the pile toppled over, and the topmost bills fluttered off the edge of the gantry. There was nothing he could do, other than watch them glide down, almost in slow-motion. If he made a run for it, everyone would think he did it on purpose. Or that he was weird. Running would make it weird. The gantry made too much noise if you ran. The bills were nearing Harry’s head. He stayed put, frozen on the spot, as the first bill, then the second and then the third made contact with the crown of Harry’s head and gently fell to his shoulders, and onto the floor. 

Niall tried to busy himself with the bills he had left, rolling them up and tying them with rubber bands, hoping that maybe Harry wouldn’t notice.

No such luck. He finished off the dance move he was executing, but then picked the bills up off the floor and looked up. Niall felt his cheeks flushing, but didn’t look down and concentrated feverishly on the bills in his hand.

“Niall?” He heard a call.

Niall looked down slowly, cursing himself for going so red and hot and hoping that it was dark enough up there that Harry wouldn’t see. 

“You dropped these,” Harry grinned, waving the bills up at him.

Niall laughed quietly. “Guess I did, sorry ‘bout that,” he replied softly. “I’ll come and get them, hold on. Sorry, Ms.Ab - Kirsty.”

“No! No, don’t worry, I’ll bring them,” Harry offered and before Niall could object, Harry had raced to the gantry ladder and was climbing it at a ferocious speed. Determined to make this encounter short, Niall got up and so they met in the middle, at the top of the ladder.

“Here,” Harry said softly, reaching into his back pocket, one hand gripping the ladder, and pulling out the bills. “They look great, by the way, did you make them?”

“Yeah,” Niall said, growing ever more flustered, “yeah, I did. Thanks, you didn’t have to, ya know, climb all the way up, sorry I disrupted your rehearsal,” Niall blabbed quietly, taking the bills and turning away. Harry caught the hem of his t-shirt and made him stop.

“No worries,” Harry said kindly. “You know, you’re welcome down there too. If you want. Don’t feel like you need to hide, yeah?”

Niall didn’t know what to say, so he just smiled a little. “Thanks,” he whispered. The little yellow light at the top of the ladder was lighting Harry’s face in this beautiful glow and he was a little overwhelmed.

“Alright. See ya,” Harry smiled, and began his descent. Niall went back to his place and pulled out his phone, taking extreme care so as not to drop that too, and texted Louis.

_Niall, 17:01PM: So I just talked to Harry. Sort of._

Exactly after he pressed send, he realised that he hadn’t told Louis about Harry. That he liked him. Or even that he liked boys. For all Louis knew, he could have had his eye on any girl at rehearsals. Not Harry.

He stared at the text message, trying to think of any possible explanation that he could give. He was not about to come out to Louis over text. He would not. Luckily, Louis always replied fast.

_Louis, 17:01PM: ...who?_

Niall breathed a sigh of relief. This was the universe giving him a second chance. He thought a little, looking down at the rehearsing group, and he had an idea. 

_Niall, 17:02PM: LOL autocorrect. I meant Harriet. You know, one of the ensemble girls._

_Louis, 17:02: OOOOOH NIALL!!!!! get in there mate. what did you say_

_Niall, 17:03: Oh nothing it was just a quick thing she asked me for the time that’s all. Just thought you’d like to know._

He wasn’t proud of this white lie, but it was necessary. He put his phone away before Louis had the time to text back asking for details, and went back to rolling the bills.

*

From then on, Niall made a conscious effort to spend time on the ground with the actors. He reckoned that to gain their trust, and eventually respect, he might as well actually get to know them. And Harriet really wasn’t so bad. She was very nice, actually, as he found out during one of the breaks when she actually asked him the time and they got talking. 

And the days and weeks rolled on, and rehearsals became more elaborate and Niall’s prop tables began to come to life, one piece at a time. He did have to keep reminding people that they weren’t meant to touch the props, or play with them or hide them or do anything else with them other than act. 

It was coming on to be mid-November, which meant that the set needed to come alive. And that, once again, was a part of Niall’s job. So one Sunday, Niall offered to come in and paint what had been set up the night before. He put out a message on the cast group chat, asking for volunteers, to which nobody responded. So encouraging.

He left the house at 9:45 sharp, got on his bike and braved the freezing winter air. It didn’t help that the sweats he had selected for the messy job had a massive hole in the left knee, which let the cold air blow right in. His hands, nose and left knee were pink and raw from the cold by the time he was walking his bike to the racks.

He honestly didn’t expect anybody to show up, because of the lack of replies on his message, so he was pleasantly surprised to walk into the theatre to find Harriet, Louis, Ellie, and Priya all sitting on the seats, sharing a bag of Cheetos.

“Oh, hi Niall,” Louis called, “we thought you weren’t coming!” He waved his phone, showing the time 10:01. 

“Bugger off Louis, hi,” Niall said, striding over and launching his hand into the bag of Cheetos.

“Yes, Niall, of course you can have some of my chips, no problem, so kind of you to ask,” Louis grumbled playfully.

“Hi,” came a bright voice from the doorway.

Niall turned, and who else could it have been than Harry Styles himself. He was bundled up so warmly, in a brown, wintery bomber jacket, a big scarf, and a beanie. His hair still managed to peek out from underneath, curling around the nape of his neck and his ears, and his cheeks were flushed from the cold. Niall dropped one of the Cheetos that was perched on his palm.

“Harry!” he said, a little too enthusiastically, “Hi! Thanks for coming!”

“No worries,” he replied, dropping his backpack on one of the seats, “it’s the least I could do. Couldn’t have you painting on your own, could we?” he said, looking over at the others.

“No way,” Harriet smiled.

“Let’s get started then?” Niall suggested, stuffing his remaining Cheetos into his mouth and taking off his coat. Harry took off his layers too and Niall found himself faced with Harry in a beat-up ‘Hard Rock Café Maui’ t-shirt and grey, tapered sweatpants that fit him just so. He marched towards the paint storage room before he could say anything, or make any giveaway facial expressions. Harry looked really, really good, there was nothing more to it.

Niall organised his troops. Priya, Ellie and Louis were in charge of the left side of the stage, and Harry, Harriet and himself of the right. They would paint starting at the corners and meet in the middle, leaving a small pathway so that they could move about without messing up the fresh paint.

“D’you mind if I put on some music?” Louis asked, before they got started. Nobody seemed to object too strongly, so he set up his phone inside a flower pot that he found backstage. It was no Beats sound system, but it did the job.

They day went without a hitch. The paint job on the stage turned out even better than Niall had expected, and they even got started on painting the steps that would go in the middle bright red. Louis and Ellie kept flicking paint at each other, and by the end of the day they both had little specks of black and red all over their clothes. There had been an impromptu dance party when “Uptown Funk” had come on from Louis’ master playlist. Niall tried his best not to stare at Harry too much, but it was so difficult when he had such an adorable concentration face. He furrowed his brow, licked his lips ever so often, and Niall could see how hard he was working to make sure that the paint cover was even. 

They finished just before 2, some more covered in paint than others.

“You guys can go, I’ll just clear up the brushes,” Niall urged. Harriet and Priya left quickly, worrying that they’d miss their bus.

“You sure you don’t want help?” Louis offered, but Niall assured him he didn’t. Spending so many hours in full contact with people had tired him out, and he wanted some time alone now. 

“Fine, c’mon then Ellie, ready to go?” Louis said, offering his arm to Ellie. She rolled her eyes jokingly, but took it and allowed him to lead her. Louis ushered her out the door first, and turned to give Niall a quick thumbs-up. Niall smiled and returned the gesture, mouthing “good for you”. 

“Hey, where’d everyone go?” Harry muttered. He had gotten changed, Niall noticed, and was now wearing the same Hard Rock shirt but a pair of black, non-paint splattered skinny jeans. 

“I, erm, I told them they could go, I’m only cleaning up here anyway,” Niall muttered, “you can go too, you did a great job today…”

“No, no I couldn’t, I’ll finish what I started. Here, I’ll wash out the buckets, and you do the brushes. That way you can get home faster. D’you want a drink, I think I’ve still got a couple of juice boxes in my bag…” He rummaged through his backpack, Niall not daring to say a word, and pulled out two cartons, edges slightly squashed. “D’you want mango-passionfruit or apple-pear?”

“I’ll go apple-pear. Thanks, by the way, you really don’t have to at all, you must have things on,” Niall managed.

“No, I assure you I don’t. Now cmon, let’s get this done. I’ll just change back into my sweats, they’re already dirty after all,” Harry continued as he began to unbutton his jeans.

“I’ll get started then,” Niall said, a little too forcefully, and made a beeline to the back room before Harry had time to get changed _right in front of him Jesus Christ_. 

Harry was right; the clearing up didn’t take more than ten minutes. Unfortunately, that meant that Harry missed his bus. They walked out of school together, chatting now that they had gotten started during the clearing up. 

“Wait with me?” he suddenly asked as Niall was just about to say goodbye to him and bike home. 

There was a thousand reasons why Niall could have said no. It was freezing cold, for starters, and the concierge of the school had _just_ locked the theatre up and drove off, so they couldn’t even wait inside. His sweats had a hole in them. He hadn’t been clever enough to bring gloves. Or a hat. His mum was probably waiting for him. They were out of snacks, for christssake. 

“Yeah, alright then,” he replied, and followed Harry, leaning his bike against the bus shelter and taking a seat next to Harry. Unfortunately, because it was Sunday Harry’s bus only ran every 55 minutes, and he had missed it by 10. They both quickly resorted to sitting on their hands to keep them warm, and occasionally getting up to jog a few laps around the shelter just to keep warm.

They talked almost non-stop for the 45 minutes that they waited there together, and found that they actually had a fair bit in common. Turns out Harry was a musician, which did indeed explain why he could sing so well. So they talked about that - about Niall’s favourite bands and Harry’s favourite bands and songs that reminded them of Christmas and their birthdays and songs that reminded them of people, songs that they found it hard to listen to. Harry told him about his family, and Niall told Harry about his. He talked about when he lived in Ireland. When Harry’s bus did finally pop into view, and Harry waved it down, Niall couldn’t help but be a little disappointed.

“See you around, yeah?” Harry grinned at him before getting on.

Niall couldn’t think of anything to say in return, so he grinned and gave a small wave as the doors closed and Harry mouthed “bye!” through the window, his breath steaming up the glass.

*

The final weeks of rehearsals had arrived, and everybody was considerably more tense. The reality of the show had finally hit everyone, and they were all determined to make it the best musical that the school had ever put on.

The first dress rehearsal was a definite highlight for everybody, and definitely not because they got the whole day off lessons. Niall had triple-checked his prop tables on both sides of the stage before they began, and followed the script intently so as not to miss any key changeovers or props or people.

The songs had also really come together over the past couple of weeks, and everybody actually knew the words now so there was a lot less mumbling and general insecurity about singing loudly. Everyone had also surpassed the hurdle of “but what if I look silly doing these dances”, which meant that there was also a lot less half-hearted dancing and a lot more of the really great stuff that made Ms.Williams give them extra breaks here and there.

Everything in the dress went smoothly up until Harry’s big solo song, in which he is accompanied by around 14 girls with feather boas. He had been absolutely nailing it in rehearsal, but now that he was performing it on the stage, with the props and the dance routine, he was having trouble with the really long notes that required some vibrato. He had never had trouble with it before, but Niall could see how tense he was going up on stage to do that particular song. He pushed through, knowing that it was his last appearance before the intermission, and his voice broke a little on the final, long and loud note, but he gave the empty theater a big grin and sauntered offstage as he was meant to.

It was only during the intermission, when Niall went out into the corridor by the theater to get some markers from one of the classrooms that he found him. He had had the time to burst in, rummage through some drawers and find some markers before he had noticed him, sat on the floor in the far corner of the room, with his forehead resting on his knees.

“Harry?” he whispered. Harry looked up tentatively. Niall noticed that his eyes were a little red and there were a few tears shining on his cheeks. _Shit._ Harry didn’t reply, but instead just stared at him.

“I’m...just getting some markers, I’ll go if you want me to, alright,” Niall said, making for the door.

“No,” Harry said, his voice a little thick, “stay. Please stay.”

“Okay…” Niall muttered, putting the markers down on the table. “Do you want me to sit with you?”

Harry nodded, and Niall took his place next to him on the floor.  
Harry immediately leaned into Niall’s side, threading his arm around Niall’s waist to hold him close. Niall’s heart practically stopped beating.

“This okay?” Harry mumbled.

“Yeah,” Niall replied as he managed to get his arm around Harry’s shoulders and held him tight.

“You alright?” Niall asked, mentally kicking himself right after for saying that. “Sorry, obviously you’re not,” he corrected himself, “what I meant was, erm...”

“D’you think everyone noticed?” Harry interrupted, looking up at Niall. He had left a little wet patch on his t-shirt. “That I missed that note, at the end?”

“Oh Harry…” Niall said gently, “is this what this is about?”

“Yeah...it must seem silly, but I’m so scared that I just physically can’t hit that note and then I’ll mess it up in the real thing and then everyone will see...” Harry started, wiping furiously at his cheeks, but Niall cut him off.

“No! No, it doesn’t. Harry, look, it’s only rehearsals. Everyone mucks up sometimes. It’s a really hard note to hit,” Niall assured him. “You’ll be fine. Nobody’ll remember it, yeah? You’re still an amazing actor and dancer and singer, you know that? That doesn’t change. And you’ll get it in time for the show, I’m sure of it.” 

Harry smiled up at Niall, the crinkling of his eyes setting free the last couple of tears. 

“If you ever need to talk about, ya know, this soft of thing, you know you can talk to me? If you’re comfortable,” Niall suggested.

“Yeah. I think I’d like that. Thanks, Niall. Thank you.” Harry replied. “And thanks for barging in this time,” he laughed softly before resting his head back on Niall’s shoulder.

*

“Hey,” Niall said, knocking on the frame of Louis’ door. “Your mum let me in. Important news that just can’t wait?”

“Niall!” Louis exclaimed from his bed, where he was sitting on his phone, “You’re here! Please, do sit down,” he said, patting his bed. Niall kicked off his shoes and joined him.

Before Niall even had time to ask again about the “big news” that Louis had texted him about that morning, he had launched into the story with feverish excitement.

“So you know after the dress rehearsal yesterday, Ellie and I took the bus like we always do - I think she’s just told her parents that she doesn’t need picking up anymore, which means she wants to spend more time with me I guess - anyways, so we were on the bus, yeah, and then she goes like “hey are you doing anything on Saturday” - that’s today - and I go "no not really” and then she’s like “okay well do you want to get a hot chocolate at that café in town”, ‘Felix’ I think its called, and I went “yeah alright” but I was pretty much exploding on the inside and then she got off the bus and said “see you there at 2 on Saturday” then and I said “yeah alright” - seems like all I could say was “yeah alright”. And so that’s where I’m,” he raised his arms into the air in celebration, “going this afternoon. A date! With Ellie!”

“Yes, Louis!” Niall celebrated, high-fiving him, “I told ya it’d happen! Good on you, mate, good on you…”

“Oh, and another thing, on a completely different note. Before all of that we were talking and she told me that Priya had told her that Harriet likes you. Like, really likes you. Like, wants-to-snog-your-face-off likes you. And you said you liked her too, if I recall correctly? See what I’m getting at here?” Louis asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Niall instantly felt a flush go up his neck and to his cheeks. “Erm, no, I don’t recall…” he tried to dodge the question.

“I distinctly remember you texting me,” Louis said slowly, “when you’d talked to her? Why would you make such a big deal out of it if you didn’t like her? I promise that I’m not joking, by the way, Ellie really did tell me -”

“No,” Niall said, “it’s not that.” He took a deep breath. The time had come. “I, uh,” he began, “I actually like someone else.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Louis huffed. “Niall, we always tell each other about girls, come on. Who is she? Is it Sylvia because if it is, I’m totally cool with it, we were never serious or anything…”

“No, it’s not Sylvia.” Niall said heavily. Now or never. “It’s not a girl, actually. It’s,” he hesitated, but pushed on, refusing to look up at Louis and instead stared intently at the bedsheet, “it’s Harry. I’m bi, Louis, I didn’t really know how to tell you or when to tell you but here it is, I guess.”

“Oh. Alright then,” Louis said, searching for Niall’s gaze. “That’s cool. I’m honoured that you felt comfortable telling me,” he said quietly. Niall looked up and smiled at him, pulling him in for a hug.

“So Harry then,” Louis continued, “Harry Styles. He isn’t bad-looking you know, pretty handsome guy actually, now that I think about it. Nice one, Niall,” he laughed cheekily as Niall swatted at him. “I don’t mean to burst your bubble or anything,” Louis said cautiously, “but first things first - do you know if he likes boys?”

Niall’s heart sank. No, he didn’t know whether Harry liked boys. He hadn’t got a clue. They were friends sure, close friends even, but they had never talked about that sort of stuff.

“I actually don’t,” Niall admitted. 

“Only one way to find out then, isn’t there,” Louis quipped.

“And what way might that be?” Niall asked. “It’s not like you have much experience in this field, Louis?”

“It’s not rocket science, Niall - you just have to see if he seems interested. Don’t just go right for the gold, you have to tread lightly. I reckon it’s just like what I would do with a girl; figure out what his deal is. What he’s cool with. Take it slow. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Niall replied, feeling a little more hopeful. “Yeah.”

*

“Listen, Harry, everyone has to wear makeup in the show. It just looks better with the lights,” Niall explained patiently to a pouting Harry.

Sooner than anyone could have expected, show week had arrived, and the first night was upon them. There was an hour to go before curtain, and the green room was packed. Somebody had ordered in pizzas, and now the empty boxes lined every horizontal surface. Niall had been running around for the past half hour making sure that nobody was eating with their costume on, or anywhere near the costumes for that matter. Thankfully, everyone had finished with the pizzas by now, and had dutifully changed into their costumes.

It didn’t help that their makeup artist had called in sick that afternoon. Neither Ms.Williams or Ms.Abel could make it in on time because of a staff meeting, so the instruction had been given that people could either do their own makeup, or trust Niall to do it. So far, the former option had been most popular, with only Louis and the rest of the boys queueing up to have Niall do their powder.

“I don’t want to, it’ll clog my pores…” Harry whined back at him, crossing his arms. “And besides, we didn’t wear any in the dress, why now?” Despite his stubbornness, Niall couldn’t help but admire how good Harry looked in his costume. It was just a black, pinstripe suit, sure, with a deep red tie, but it fit him so well that Niall found himself a little short of breath. He imagined pulling Harry towards him by the tie and...

“Harry,” Niall said firmly, pushing any lustful thoughts out of his mind, “I don’t want to cause intentional harm to your pores or whatever, you know I don’t, but it’s Ms.Williams’ orders. It’s just a layer of powder, so you won’t shine under the lights. Come ON Harry, you _diva_ ” he groaned as Harry turned and swiftly made for the door of the green room.

“Harry! You can’t escape this, I will wrestle you into the chair if I have to!” Niall chased after him and caught him around the waist. Suddenly, he found himself way, way closer to Harry than he felt was appropriate. He could smell his cologne and feel how warm his neck was. But he didn’t let go. He couldn’t let go.

“Noooooooooo,” Harry lamented as he twisted around in Niall’s grip, eventually turning to face him, still in his arms. They were almost nose to nose, Niall holding him around the waist and Harry’s arms folded against his chest. They both fell silent for a moment and stared each other down, then Niall released him, a little too theatrically, he thought.

“Okay,” Harry sighed, “but you do it.”

“That’s what I’m here for…” Niall sighed and turned around, Harry following him eagerly.

“And don’t tickle me with the brush or whatever, I’m sensitive!” he whined, playfully now, and Niall swatted at him blindly.

“Alright, sit,” he said, gesturing at the stool in front of the mirror. 

Harry obliged, and Niall got out the powder and brush. Somehow this seemed very intimate to him, as he knelt down to meet Harry at eye level and brushed powder over his nose, his cheeks and his forehead, gently pushing some stray curls out of the way. He was determined not to look Harry in the eye, and was suddenly acutely aware of his own face. That Harry was very close to now. 

“That tickles,” Harry breathed, as Niall’s brush ghosted around his nose and upper lip. He scrunched up his nose, which made him look even cuter in Niall’s opinion. 

“Sorry,” Niall whispered back. “All done,” he declared, and just like that they were back in the loud green room, surrounded by people. 

Just then, Ms.Abel and Ms.Williams marched in.

“Vocal warm up in ten, everyone,” Ms.Abel declared. 

“And make sure you’ve got your costumes on, so that we can check on them before we get started!” Ms.Williams added. “Niall, come with me to the lighting booth so that we can get you your headset, that way you can talk to us up there during the show…”

*

The first show went as first shows often do - well, but with some surprises. Turned out that the feather boas that the girls used in Harry’s song shed like crazy, and Niall found himself on the stage during the intermission, hand-picking the feathers off of the stage. Harry had also hit the note that he had been struggling with perfectly, and when he had come offstage after that song, had taken Niall’s hand in his own and squeezed it tight before retreating to the green room. It had happened so fast that Niall hadn’t had time to appreciate the moment, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it as he worked his way across the stage.

Harry had carried his usual panache onstage with him whatever he was doing. And offstage, actually; it seemed like the adrenaline rush of performing to a full audience made him just blabber whenever he was in the wings, and Niall kept having to shush him. It was tedious, yes, and even more tedious trying to explain to people why they couldn’t stomp their feet no matter how late they were going to be for an entrance because the steps leading up to the raised stage were _so loud_. 

Niall was disappointed as Harry made most of his entrances and exits on the right side of the stage - he was stationed on the left, and saw very little of him in the first half. However, he knew that Harry was entering from the left directly after the intermission, and looked forward to it, just as he had in all of the dress rehearsals.

Soon enough, everyone was back in the wings and ready for the second half. Harry was stood directly in front of one of the black tab curtains, so that the first few rows on the right could definitely see him. Niall tugged his sleeve firmly, almost sending him toppling over.

“What was that for?” Harry said indignantly.

“You were right in their eyeline, they can see you! And thank God your mic wasn’t on,” Niall said, exasperated. He definitely remembered reminding the whole cast before the show that they need to be self-aware in the wings, but clearly his advice hadn’t been taken on board. At least not by Harry; everyone else was steering clear of the tabs.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologised, and went back to poring over his script, this time out of sight of the audience. “It’s dark here though, I’m having to strain my eyes…”

“Here,” Niall fumbled around in the semi-darkness that his eyes had already gotten used to, “I’ve got a torch. It’s dim, obviously, you don’t want it being super bright, they’d see it from a mile away...here,” he finally found it and turned it on, shining it over Harry’s pages.

“Thanks,” he said simply, not looking up.

“Niall,” came Ms.Williams’ voice, crackling over his headset, “the audience is back in place, is everyone ready to go?”

Niall did a quick head count in the wing, and looked across to the other side where his helpers gave him the all-clear wave.

“Yes, we’re ready,” he replied into his mic. With that, the lights dimmed all the way to black, and a considerable hush fell over both the audience and his wing. He looked over at Harry, who had put down his script and was preparing to go on as soon as the music started. He turned off the torch.

Niall leaned over to whisper in his ear, careful to avoid his radio mic in case it was already turned on. “Good luck.”

Harry turned, and Niall could see, even in darkness, that he was smiling. “You too,” he breathed back, and it took all of Niall’s available self-restraint not to kiss him on the cheek.

*

“So, how’s our loverboy?” Louis asked as Niall scoffed and tried to jab him in the side. It was the intermission of the third shownight, and they had gone outside for some fresh air. After two, almost three days of heavy use, the green room was starting to smell like feet.

“Not making any progress,” he admitted grudgingly. “I still don’t know if he likes boys. Or me, more importantly.”

“You’ll get there, Niall-dear,” Louis said wistfully, “but me and Ellie, hey. We’re going out together on Saturday, tomorrow good Lord, to celebrate. Well, define ‘together’. We’re both going, but she did ask if I wanted to ‘with’ her…” he mused. “You coming?”

“Nah, can’t, I’ve got to come strike the set on Sunday morning. Can’t be hungover for that, can I,” Niall replied mournfully. “Would’ve loved to, though, I’ll bet Harry’s going…”

Louis hummed in agreement. 

“So you and Ellie then,” Niall continued, in an effort to forget about the night he’d be missing with Harry and what he might get up to on that night and with whom, most importantly. “You seem good together?”

“She’s lovely, Niall,” Louis started, a whole new glint in his eye. “She’s...yeah. She’s perfect. Makes me laugh.”

“Have you kissed yet?” Niall asked. 

“Ooh, nosy nosy,” Louis teased, “but no. We haven’t, actually. We’re taking it slow, I think. Which is fine, I like her and I think she likes me too so we should be in business fairly soon…”

“Good on you, mate, I’m glad,” Niall said, feeling a tiny twinge when he thought about how happy _he_ would be with a certain somebody.

*

The final night of the show rolled around, and even before it had started people were getting extremely nostalgic. It was funny how a cast got so attached to each other over a fairly brief period of time, but it was endearing to see people walking around with their Polaroid cameras, taking photos of them and their friends in costume. Even Niall ended up playing photographer, and taking a photo of a large chunk of the cast all crowded together on one of the couches in the green room. 

The show ran smoother than ever - by the second night, everyone had gotten in the groove, so the fourth and final night was the crème de la crème. There were no more surprises; everyone had learned where they should stand and which bits of the floor in the wings were _especially_ creaky, and to avoid them like the plague. Niall wasn’t having to shush as many people as before, which made him proud of his cast. 

When the final curtain call came, Niall stood in his wing and watched proudly as everyone took their bows - Ellie and Noor, the two girls playing Roxie and Velma, then Harry, who sautered onstage with his usual charm and grinned up at the audience before taking his bow, then the ensemble boys (Niall cheered extra loudly for Louis, who was absolutely beaming), then the ensemble girls. When everyone had finished, they took one last bow together before pouring out into the wings as the house lights turned on. 

Niall continued clapping as everyone came rushing offstage, absolutely brimming with excitement and adrenaline and sadness that it was all over. He noticed a flock of the ensemble girls encircling Harry, and each took their turn in leaving a lipstick mark on his cheek. Niall felt a strong pang of jealousy, especially as Harry seemed to be enjoying the experience. 

He looked away and his eye caught something far more endearing - Louis and Ellie were stood opposite each other, and her hands were looped around his neck. Louis was saying something, looking extremely excited, but was cut short when Ellie lurched forward and kissed him in the middle of his sentence. Niall smiled, but once Louis wrapped his arms around her waist he started to feel a bit too voyeuristic, and snuck through the folds in the curtains to make his way into the theater and into the green room that way. He didn’t want to have to wade through the crowd of Harry-admirers. 

He gathered his things quickly, and congratulated some people who had already come in there to change out of their costumes. His next place to be was the lighting booth, where he had to wait for everyone to return their radio mics before disappearing off to the party that somebody had offered to have at their house, that was literally over the other side of the road from the school.

He took his place, and caught Ms.Williams just in time to thank her for letting him do this.

“You did a wonderful job, Niall, really you did,” she said kindly, patting him on the back. “You should’ve taken drama,” she joked, before leaving at the request of her children, tugging on her sleeve.

And so Niall was left alone in the lighting booth, as the audience trickled out of the waiting area of the theatre, out of the doors and into the night. People came by, sometimes alone and sometimes in gaggles, to return their mics, and after around 30 minutes, Niall had almost everyone’s mics back and hanging on the hooks where they belonged. All but one.

After another 15 minutes of sitting in the booth and playing Candy Crush, there came a knock on the doorframe.

“Heya, sorry I took so long.”

Niall looked up, and there he was. Harry, with a lopsided smile, dangling his radio mic in his hand. He had changed back out of his suit and into his usual black skinny jeans, but now he was wearing a loose, dark blue button-up shirt with tiny white stars on it. He had also washed off the lipstick stains, Niall noticed. _Huh._

“No, that’s alright,” Niall began, “but you really did take your time.”

“Yeah, the lipstick wasn’t coming off with water, they must have gotten that waterproof kind that would survive pretty much anything…” he laughed softly.

“Here, let me take that off you so you can get going,” Niall offered, and got up to move towards Harry. Unfortunately, Harry had had the same idea, and they ended up colliding, meeting in the middle.

“Sorry,” Niall mumbled, stepping back and allowing Harry to pass him the mic. He turned and hung it on the wall. “Bye, then, have a good time at the party,” he said, expecting Harry to bolt at the first opportunity. He was already late, technically.

But Harry stayed. “You did a great job, by the way,” he said. “Your props were really good. And you were really nice, but not too nice, you know? Can I sit?” he asked, eyeing the second pleather office chair in the booth.

“Go ahead,” Niall replied, his heart practically in his throat, because Harry was staying to talk to him. _Him._ He rolled his chair closer to Harry’s.

“Yeah, so like I was saying you were nice but still didn’t take any shit,” Harry continues, plopping down into the soft chair and twisting around a little as he talked, allowing the chair to spin. “I think it’s cool. You’re cool,” he said, smiling up at Niall. He span so that their knees were touching and they were face to face.

“I...thanks, Harry, that really means a lot,” Niall managed. “You’re not so bad yourself you know. I can’t imagine myself getting up on that stage and singing and dancing and all that jazz that you guys do every night…you’re really great at theatre,” he finished, meeting Harry’s gaze and smiling back.

Before he knew what was happening, Harry had leaned forwards and kissed him. Just like that. It barely lasted a second, and he pulled away, got up and frantically reached for his bag.

“I’m...I’m so sorry Niall, I shouldn’t have done that, I’ll go now, see you later,” he blabbed. Niall got up from his chair as fast as possible and reached out, catching Harry by his hand and pulling him back for another kiss. This one was deeper, and longer, and Harry’s arms soon snaked their way around to Niall’s cheeks, while Niall held him firmly around the waist. It was a sweet kiss, no tongue, but so tender that Niall felt like his heart and legs were melting. He could feel Harry smiling into it.

Niall pulled away after a long while for a breath.

“Heeeyyy…” Harry breathed, as their kiss left his lips in a pout.

“I...really like you, Harry,” Niall choked out. “I mean, obviously,” he laughed. 

“I like you too, Niall,” Harry said, smiling now “but I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t even know if you liked boys…”

Niall grinned at that. “I had the same problem, believe it or not,” he said softly, planting another gentle kiss on Harry’s lips, catching him off-guard. “But I’m gathering now that you do?”

“I definitely do, Niall,” Harry said, “and you in particular.”

Harry leaned back in, and backed them up until Niall met his office chair, and sat down, allowing Harry to climb up on top of him. Harry kept his hands cupping Niall’s cheeks, and Niall allowed his to roam Harry’s back, finally settling at his waist and steadying him there. 

“This okay?” Harry asked breathlessly in between kisses.

“More than,” Niall replied, and Harry made his way down to Niall’s neck, flaming hot, planting some very passionate kisses there as Niall moaned ever so quietly. 

He searched for Harry’s lips with his own and found them, and Harry obligingly deepened the kiss, their tongues now finding each other, but still gentle, ever so gentle, and Niall couldn’t help but believe that he was the luckiest goddamn stage manager on Earth.

*


End file.
